Part 2: Rue

I'm dying. I knew that I would in the Games, but it's still a shock. I can feel the spear stuck in my stomach up to the shaft, sending sharp bursts of pain through me. Katniss has shot Marvel, the District 1 boy, and I can hear him dying as well. I glance over to see a gaping hole in his throat and an arrow in his hand. He's drowning in his own blood. Suddenly my own death doesn't look so bad.

"Are there more? Are there more?" Katniss is yelling loudly while reloading her bow. I have to say "No" several times before she hears me. That explosion I heard must have deafened her. I was wondering what had caused that when I ran into the net. When I couldn't get out, I whistled the signal so that Katniss would know that I was alive. When I had heard the same melody being sang by the birds again, I had known she was close. My yelling had also attracted Marvel, who had probably set the trap. I've been compared to a bird before, and I had been trapped like one.

I feel her cutting away the net and crouching at my side. I reach out my hand towards her and she takes it, clutching it like it'll keep me from dying. There's no stopping that now.

"You blew up the food?" I whisper, thinking back to the explosion.

"Every last bit," she says.

Without that food, the remaining Careers will be off their game. She has a much better chance at winning now. "You have to win," I say.

"I'm going to. Going to win for both of us now," she assures me. A cannon goes off and I know that Marvel is gone. The light suddenly seems brighter. Fear stabs me as well and I tighten my grip on Katniss's hand.

"Don't go." I don't want to die alone in this strange, terrible place.

"Course not. Staying right here," she says. She moves in closer and pulls my head into her lap. She brushes a few strands of my hair behind my ear. The light seems to be getting brighter. Also, I'm hearing mockingjays from a ways off, and I can smell the wildflowers that are a few steps away. It's like my senses are suddenly being freed and I don't know why.

"Sing," I whisper. Sometimes we would sing while we were gathering in the harvest. I've always enjoyed that, especially when the mockingjays joined in. She hesitates for a moment, coughs, swallows, and then starts.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

I close my eyes as though I were just going to sleep. My breaths are getting shallower by the moment. My life flashes across my closed eyes. My first steps and words, going to school with my siblings, the harvests, the preliminary drawings, the Reaping, the Parade, the Interviews, the Cornucopia, flying through the trees, helping Katniss, setting the first two fires, and now this.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away

A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay

And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

I can barely hear her now, even as my senses grow. "Why?" I ask myself. "Why couldn't that be the reality instead of the make-believe? To have peace, to just let us live our lives. Is this all there is?"

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

I just barely catch the end of Katniss's song. It's like some kind of cord has gently snapped and I'm slowly rising through the air. I open my eyes. Somehow I'm above the trees, and yet I'm not panicking. I actually feel peaceful. I look down and there on the ground is Katniss…and me! I look so small. I could be asleep if it wasn't for the spear in my stomach. I hear my cannon go off, far in the distance. The light has grown much stronger now, yet I don't find it blinding. With it comes a desire to close my eyes and sleep. As I close my eyes, my last glimpse of the world is of Katniss picking flowers and putting them on me. Hiding the wound and wreathing me in them. I smile at this last gesture and as I drift off into the sky and sleep, I wish her luck in the Games.

When I wake, there's nothing but white above me. Cautiously, I raise myself up and look around. There's nothing but white space around me except for a blue glow in the distance. It seems to take the outline of the horizon. Strangely, I'm sitting on a surface that I can't distinguish from the air. I suddenly start hearing things. At first I can't place it. Then I realize that it's singing. It's Katniss's song and it's coming from behind me.

I turn around and jump. Behind me, where I couldn't see it, is a gate. It's beautiful. It's inlaid with gold and studded with pearls. Light is coming through the bars along with the voices. Only one word can describe them: heavenly.

Hesitantly, I walk towards it. I jump backwards when it opens of its own accord. A man in odd clothes walks out. He looks to be in his prime. He has a swarthy complexion, brown hair, and brown eyes. The eyes twinkle and he seems to radiate a kindness that I haven't noticed in anyone besides my family. He smiles down at me.

"Hello, Rue," he says.

I stare at him. "How did you know my name?" I ask.

"I was told your name. I'm Pannol, and I welcome the souls of children who come to these gates," he explains in a kind tone. I suddenly remember the things that Remus Scythe, or 'Uncle' Remus," taught me. He's an elderly man in District 11. He would tell me and the other kids stories from a book called the "Bible." It was a very old book, and he hid it very carefully from our district's Peacekeepers.

The Bible told stories about a single God who created the world and everything in it. When you died, your soul went to one of two places: Heaven, God's home, a place of beauty and happiness, or you went to Hell, a haven for evil and suffering. There were only two ways to get into Heaven: accept Jesus Christ as your savior (whatever that meant), or die before you truly know the difference between right and wrong. Also, the servants of God were called angels, beings who looked like normal people but were much stronger.

"Are you an angel?" I ask quietly.

He smiles. "Yes, young one. You died in the arena, in the Hunger Games, just like the martyrs in the coliseums of ancient Rome." His voice takes on a sad note when he mentions this and the twinkle disappears from his eyes. "You died before you were accountable for your sins. A terrible thing, because you were so young."

I nod. "Uncle Remus was telling us the truth when he was reading from his book then," I say.

The twinkle returns almost immediately. "Yes, and I look forward to meeting him. He is a man that truly deserves the title saint. He has taken such risks spreading the Word. Panem needs it more than any of the nations on Earth."

"There are other countries? Panem's isn't alone in the world?" According to the history books, the only survivors of humanity live in North America, in Panem. Then again, either the Capitol doesn't want us to know about them, or they don't know about them.

"Yes," Pannol answers, "But they are few and far between. Now, ready to see Heaven?" He holds out his hand to me. I stare at it and remember everything that Uncle Remus told us younger ones. That Heaven has no Peacekeepers, no Hunger Games, no Capitol. There's no sadness, or anger, or evil. It's everything the world was before the first two people ate the forbidden fruit. And there's the singing.

I reach out and take his hand. Its warmth sends an odd feeling of safety and security through my arm and into my body, comforting me. It tells me that nothing, not even the Capitol, can ever hurt me again. As we start towards the gate, I stop. "What about Katniss? Will she die too, and come here?"

He looks at me sadly. "I don't know if she'll die in the Games. It's not my place to know that. If she doesn't come to the Son before she dies, she'll never see these gates."

I stare at the ground for a moment, as if my gaze can break through it and see down into the arena, to Katniss. She is so much better than the Careers, than the Capitol. She deserves to be here. From what little I know, Hell doesn't sound like a good place.

"However, there is one who can tell you her destiny," He continues. "She lives now. Her fate is hardly sealed. She may yet come here. Come. There are people that wish to meet you."

We turn back to the gate. It's even more beautiful than from where I woke. The singing is more beautiful as well, and there are flashes of movement coming from within. I clutch Pannol's hand tighter and together, we walk through the gate into Paradise.

Heaven isn't anything like I imagined or was told. It's even better.

I stare at the landscape as we enter through the gate and the lights fade to reveal …District 11? We're standing in an orchard I know well. It's the one where I work the most since it's the closest to my house. But it's different. The grass feels softer, the leaves seem greener, and the fruit even looks delicious.

Pannol lets go of my hand and I look over at him. He spreads out his hand towards the surrounding, inviting me to explore. I hesitantly walk over to a tree, and then jump up and grab a low branch. I climb along the branch to the main trunk and continue scurrying through the branches until I come out of the leaves on a high branch. Looking down I realize this is much higher than I have climbed before, yet I don't feel afraid.

I whistle the four-note tune I taught Katniss and listen. An instant later, dozens of mockingjay voices start up in song all over the orchard. One of them flies up and lands on my shoulder. Wonderingly, I reach up towards it head and pet it gently. It arches into my hand like a cat, and then hops down onto a neighboring branch.

By now, other songbirds, some of which I've never heard before, have joined the mockingjays with their own songs. The beauty of nature's music is almost hypnotizing. As I listen, I look off into the distance. There are collections of huts in the distance, just like the other District 11, but I can't see any Peacekeepers. Nor do I spy the electric fence that encircles the district.

Around the huts I see people coming and going. My vision is so good I can see their faces in great detail. They all seem familiar, yet I can't place them. I suddenly realize that these people must be the dead relatives of people I know back home. Fascinated, I look towards the place where my family's hut is. It's there along with the other huts, but it's different. It looks bigger and cleaner too. My mother and my sisters and I always made sure the hut wasn't dirty, but there's only so much you can do in District 11. Our hut is a good-sized one compared to the rest but that's only because eight people live under its roof. Well, seven now.

I lean back in the tree and consider it all. The animals are friendlier, the plants are greener, and the huts are cleaner. The people seem happier, and there's not a Peacekeeper or an electric fence in sight. Everything is just so beautiful and happy. This place is just like home, but it's more of a home.

"Rue," Pannol calls. "There someone down here who wants to see you." I sadly leave the beautiful picture and head back down the tree. Who wants to see me? I've lost people I cared for in District 11, so it could be anyone. The answer still surprises me. Standing there with Pannol is Martin, the boy who got killed over those night glasses. It's him, but he too is different. Instead of that wandering look in his eyes, they are bright and alert. As I jump out of the tree, he walks up to me.

"Rue, it's great to see you again," he cries as he pulls me into a hug. I hug him back and then stand back to look at him. He hasn't changed a bit. He hasn't grown and his clothes are the same as the day he died. He has completely lost that "out-of-this-world" look he had back in Panem.

"Martin, it's good to see you," I say. It is. He and I weren't really friends, but we weren't enemies either. I was myself and he was the odd boy of District 11. Seeing him now, here, not dead on the ground, this just brings everything together. It finally hits me; I'm as free as the birds I've been compared to. The Capitol and the Peacekeepers can no longer hurt me or Martin or anyone else here. They can't hurt me, but…

"Rue, what's wrong?" Martin's looking at me concerned.

"It's nothing," I reply. "It's just that everyone back in District 11, my parents, my sisters, your family, they're all back in District 11, where it's still bad. I just wish they could be here with us."

"Your parents are getting closer to the truth, Rue," Pannol says. "And your sisters will follow them as well. Speaking of family, here comes some of yours right now."

There are five people walking towards us. Four of them are adults and the one that isn't appears to be my age. Two of the adults are dressed in what looks like some of kind of uniform. As they come closer I realize that they all look a bit like my parents and sisters. They all stop and smile when they look at me. The oldest man, who is wearing a uniform, crouches down to my level and looks at me. "Hello, Rue. I'm your great-grandfather, Cider. It's good to see you," he says.

I stare at him. "My parents never told me about you," I say.

He nods sadly. "That's because they never got to know us. They did tell you about your grandparents. This," he gestures to the younger couple, "is my daughter Laura and her husband Hayseed, your father's parents. They died a few years before you were born. This is my wife, Sarah. We died in the Rebellion." The older woman wearing a uniform smiles and nods. "And this," He ruffles the hair of the boy, "is your uncle Jayce. He was your father's older brother and a tribute in the 53rd Hunger Games."

He looks at the ground for a moment and then back at me. "Rue, I'm sorry we lost the Rebellion. We never meant for this to happen to you, to die so young. We believed that it couldn't get any worse in the Districts. We were beyond horrified when we learned about the Games. It's the coliseums of Rome, only the combatants are always children. You deserved so much more than what happened to you. Can you ever forgive us?"

I stand there for a moment, and then rush over to hug him. "You didn't create the Hunger Games. You didn't reap me," I say into his chest. I hear, and then feel the rest of my new-found family surround me in a group hug. If only we could've done this without having to die first.

After a moment, Pannol speaks up. "There's one more person that wants to meet you, Rue." Everyone reluctantly parts and stands. Pannol points to the north and I suddenly see a point of light off in the distance. The source seems to take the form of a city, a city that makes the Capitol's beauty seem tawdry.

"Who is it?" I ask, though I think I may already know the answer.

"Jesus Christ of Nazareth," he says. Right then something odd happens. Either the ground is moving beneath our feet or we're moving across the ground at tremendous speed towards the city. As we get closer the glory of the city only intensifies. It's simply huge. The buildings are made of gold and are decorated with gems and pearls. The jewelry from District 1 that I saw in the Capitol is cheap compared to this finery. Everything they consider to be important is truly nothing. As we come to the city's gates, I see the people standing in crowds in the streets and on the rooftops. Here and there are people dressed like Pannol. Most of them are much taller and bigger than the others. They're all singing something. It starts with the words "Amazing Grace."

As we enter I see that the streets are made of gold as well. Also, most of the people are wearing crowns. These range from simple tiaras to elaborate gem-studded crowns. Looking up at my relatives I see that suddenly they are also wearing crowns as well. I notice a sudden weight upon my head. I reach up to feel a tiara with a small stone set in the center. Uncle Remus mentioned something about receiving crowns of glory when we came here. Mine's simple, but I can tell that it's far better than the crown you receive for winning the Games.

We've reached the center of the city. There is a massive palace that seems to climb forever into the sky. The entrances are guarded by massive angels armed with swords that would put Cato's blade to shame with their size and make. They nod to us as we pass. Inside are more people. Their clothes are strange. What's even more unusual is that they're all talking in different languages, yet I can understand them. The names I hear are a bit more familiar: David, Paul, Simon Peter, Timothy, Elijah, Moses, and many more. Names from Uncle Remus's book.

Animals I've never seen before stalk around the legs of the crowd. If anyone notices, it's to reach down and stroke them. Many rooms branch off from the main hallway and I see many things as we go by. One of them is occupied by what looks like a gigantic lizard on two legs. We go by before I can get a better look. Finally we stop in front of a large throne on a raised dais.

A moment passes and then a bright light surrounds the throne. When it dies down three figures occupy the dais. The one on my left is a giant of an angel. He's blond, muscular, easily seven feet tall, and dressed in silver armor. He rests the head of a gigantic mace upon the ground. By the way he grips the hilt, you know that he knows how to use it. The one on my right isn't as big, nor does he wear any armor, but you can tell he's important by the scroll in his hand and the ornate horn he wears by his side. His dark brown curls frame a face that commands respect, but yet belongs to a servant. As much power and respect as these two command, the one in the middle trumps them all.

He's not large or powerful-looking, but there's something about him that just says the word "power." You can almost feel it radiating from his body. The only thing that doesn't make you cower in downright fear is the look in his blue-green eyes. They are a look of absolute love and compassion, a look that makes you want to worship him out of his pure goodness. You can't help but look down at yourself and feel that you don't really belong here no matter how good of a person you are. This, I just know, is the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ.

The angels call out, "Hail the Son of the Most High God!" As everyone kneels before the Son of God, I find it just natural to do the same. It's not conformity that makes me want to kneel; it just feels so natural to do so before Him. It's just as natural to call out with the crowd, "Hail the Son of God, the Lamb who was Slain, the Lord of lords, and the King of kings!" He raises a hand and we rise to our feet. He holds out his hand to…me?

I swallow and after giving a quick look to my family, I start forward. At the same time I'm aware of other people in the crowd moving forward. He called me first, didn't He? I look towards him again and the hand is still held out towards me. I come forward and take it. If Pannol's hand inspired safety and security, Jesus's hand does the same, only with many other feelings on a much larger scale. Safety, security, love, peace, joy, I can't begin to explain them all. He leads me to throne, sits down in it, and settles me on His lap. Strangely, I am aware of others there with Him. It's like all those in the crowd are also meeting with Him privately all at the same time. The children sit in his lap, the older ones stand or kneel in front of Him. I only hear the words meant for me though.

"Hello Rue," He says, smiling. "It's good to meet you. You're familiar with my servant Remus in District 11?"

I nod. "Yes sir. He read us a lot of stories and told us about You and Heaven. He really likes You."

He smiles. "A true Samuel of this age. He has done and risked much for Me and My Kingdom."

I decided to ask what had been on my mind since I had arrived. "Jesus, what will happen to Katniss? She shouldn't die in the arena and I don't want her to go to Hell."

He nods. "Katniss will survive the arena and she will come to Me. But first, many sad and terrible things will happen to her, things that will nearly break her. Things that have started thanks to your alliance in the arena."

I can't help but blanch. "Maybe I shouldn't have stayed after her wounds were healed. If she's going to suffer because I stayed…"

"It happened as it did," He assures me. "Your murder in the arena has started something that will change Katniss, and Panem, forever. The events that happen in this arena will lead to the destruction of those monstrous Games, as well as the fall and punishment of the Capitol for spilling the blood of the innocent and ignoring the helpless." I feel a momentary spark of anger flash off Him towards the Capitol. It's not at me and it lasts only an instant, but I can't help but suppress a shudder. Such power against such atrocities…

"The evil of the Games and the Capitol will turn on its own creators and destroy them. My Word has been ignored for far too long in Panem," He continues. A sorrowful look comes into His eyes. "Oh Panem, oh Panem, how far you have fallen. The people and nation that came before you believed in Me and then fell, leading to their own destruction. You knew their mistakes and vowed to never forget Me nor them. Yet now your own iniquity far outstrips their own. If you are to destroy the cycle, you must have my Word."

He stops and turns to me. "Men like Remus take a great risk in spreading My Word. They will never be forgotten as long as I reign. Rue, never forget this. It will help you soon, far more than you know."

"Yes sir," I answer. "It was nice meeting you, Jesus."

He smiles. "It won't be the last time, Rue. Your story, here and elsewhere, is far from over."

He helps me up and leads me back to the crowd. As I let go of His hand, I notice others moving into the crowd as I do. He must have been talking with them at the same time as I was. What does he mean, never forgetting what Uncle Remus does, or that my story was far from over, here or elsewhere? I'm dead. I can't do anything to help Him or His Kingdom. Maybe I should ask my family about it. Strangely, as I got close, I got the sense that I should keep my conversation with Jesus to myself. That it was for me only. Maybe the answer would become apparent to me as time went on. I had eternity now.

As we found our places with friends and family, Jesus stood to His feet. "My disciples, events have taken place in the nation of Panem that will overturn the evil that has long ruled over that country. A single girl will provide the fire needed to bring down the human servants of the Evil One. Her song will long be remembered in the annals of both Heaven and Earth. Let's sing now."

As one, we open our mouths to start. The angel with the trumpet starts the first verse. I realize that it's the song that Katniss sang over me as I left the Earth behind. I feel the emotions going through those around me as the song progresses. It's just a lullaby, but thanks to Katniss, it now means so much more. Even the huge angel with the mace and the animals seem affected by the song. As we finish the last verse, I realize what's happened. I'm no longer in the arena; I'm in the Meadow.

Time passes. I watch from above as the 74th Hunger Games plays out. Thresh arrives and I hug him for sparing Katniss. I meet with the other tributes that arrived here and we pray for Katniss to stop the Games. We cheer when Katniss manages to save Peeta and get him crowned victor as well. We thank God for Seneca Crane's decision to let them both live instead of letting them both die, or killing one of them. We know it's wrong on a moral level for Katniss to lead Peeta on like that even though she didn't have a choice. My family and I and Thresh tear up as Peeta donates one month of his and Katniss's winnings to our families for the rest of their lives and Katniss thanks them for us and District 11 for the bread. When Uncle Remus is executed for singing my four-note tune, I'm both horrified at the way he died and elated when he joins us. When Snow announces that the 75th Hunger Games will use the victors instead of normal tributes, I'm only comforted by Jesus's reassurances that this won't lead to Katniss's premature death. What's truly sad about the 3rd Quarter Quell is that only one of the victims arrives in Heaven: Mags of District 4.

The 2nd Rebellion starts up as the resourcefulness and vengeance of the Districts is pitted against the technology and soldiers of the Capitol. The need for God's Word is made obvious by the small amount of souls that ascend into Heaven as compared to the huge masses that descend into Hell. Alma Coin's use of a Capitol hovercraft to kill Capitol children and Primrose Everdeen in order to get the entire nation and Katniss to support her only make this clearer. Prim and I watch with horror as Katniss votes for the Final Hunger Games to avenge her sister. Ironically, it is President Snow (and a nudging of Katniss's memory from God) that saves Panem and the children of the Capitol from Coin's personal brand of perverted morality. Snow was a monster; thank the Lord he was an honest monster.

As Peeta and Katniss recover from their traumatic experiences and settle down together, my heart, and Prim's, are uplifted. No child of theirs, or any other couple, will ever face the death I died. The arenas have been destroyed, and memorials erected in their place, one of them with my name carved in its surface. And yet, something's missing. The Word. Many people live out their lives upon Panem without the Good News, and as each day passes, they come closer and closer to the time of their death. As Katniss and Peeta watch their children play upon a meadow, I watch from Heaven with concern. Katniss voted for the Final Hunger Games, but I know that she isn't a monster. If she commits the Unforgiveable Sin, ignoring Christ's sacrifice and embracing her fallen nature, she will suffer the fate of Snow and Coin and so many others.

One day, 25 years after my death in the arena, I'm called into the presence of the Christ along with five others, Prim included. It isn't often that such a small number is summoned to appear before the Son of God. Of course, everyone in Heaven will know what's being said, but still. As we six kneel before the throne, I can't help but notice something. We all either died in the arena or in the 2nd Rebellion. There's me, Prim, and a man named Boggs who was Katniss's squad leader. There's Circuit Daniels, a lanky 14-year-old from District 3, tribute for the 72nd Hunger Games. Also joining us is Christy Williamson of District 10, killed by a muttation in the Capitol. And finally, Julius Jenkins of District 2, died inside the Nut while spying for the Rebellion. This is getting extremely peculiar.

The hum of conversation among the saints dies down as Jesus, Michael, and Gabriel appear around the throne. Something's up. Michael's clasping and unclasping the handle of his mace, while Gabriel looks like he's going to burst with good news. After the 'hailing,' Jesus stands to speak.

"My disciples, something has occurred in Panem that will bring many lost sheep to the fold. Charis Snow, the granddaughter of Coriolanus Snow, has completed Project Elisha. This project is the crowning jewel of her ambition to redeem the name of Snow and undo the evil her grandfather committed. Her drive is noble, but misdirected. Even so, Project Elisha will bring about the redemption of many in Panem. The project has enabled those on Earth to bring back the dead."

This causes a stir among the saints. If those on Earth could bring back the dead, it means that they could unwillingly be forced back to Earth. Or that beasts like Snow, Hitler, and Vlad the Impaler could escape the horrors of hell. It also means that Christ's death on the cross would be in vain since sin will be punished twice, once for the guilty party and twice by Christ.

The murmuring stops as Christ raises a hand to continue. "They have discovered three factors that determine if someone can live on Earth again. Their age when they died, how much their cadavers have decomposed, and how badly the cause of their demise rendered their bodies. What they don't know is that there is a fourth factor. My permission." The relief is almost tangible. "The time is right. The people of Panem hunger for my Word, even if they don't know it. Those who know the truth about what comes after death are needed. Not all will listen, but sadly, that rarely happens. I've decided that twelve will rise from the dead to minister to the lost. Six will descend from Heaven and six will rise from Hell. You," He points to the six of us, "are the ones from Heaven that I have chosen. Come." He holds out His hands, signaling us to rise and come forward. I'm familiar with this now; each of us only hears what is meant for that one.

I sit in his lap and face Him. "This is what you meant when you said that my story wasn't over?" I ask.

He nods. "Yes, Rue. Your time on Earth isn't over. You need to continue Remus's work."

"Lord, I don't wish to question you like Moses did, but…why me? How can I serve you? I'm just a child," I ask.

"Yes, you're young. You're also as gentle as a dove and as wise as a serpent. Your actions in the arena prove that."

"It wouldn't have been like that if I hadn't been so small and young," I say quietly.

"But it was that way, and it can't be any other way, Rue. It was your innocence and your friendship with Katniss that led to the fall of the Hunger Games. It will be those things that will lead her, and others, to Me. You will be the first one to rise. The second one will ascend from Hell. In regard to this one, remember this. Hate the sins, love the sinner, no matter how bad the sins were. Also, remember the tree where Remus taught you and the other children. Their machine will fire up in one hour. Prepare yourself, my daughter."

As the others and I walk to our loved ones, I go over his advice in my head. Apparently, I'll be working with someone who did some pretty bad things while he/she was alive. The tree bit is easier. The only time I saw Uncle Remus's Bible was at the peach tree at the very back of the orchard where I worked. He must have hidden it somewhere in or around the tree. I'll ask him before I leave.

I'm plied with advice and public displays of affection as I meet up with my friends and family. I promise Martin that I'll tell his parents and sisters that he loves them. I promise Uncle Jayce to tell my father the same. Prim asks me to tell her sister and mother that she'll be coming back as well. I finally get around to asking Uncle Remus about the peach tree. "It's in the hollow right under the old mockingjay nest on the second branch", he tells me. "Take care of that Bible now. It's been in my family for generations."

"I'll make sure it's in my family for generations," I say. For some reason this brings tears (of joy) to the eyes of my grandparents and great-grandparents. After saying goodbye for now to my family, friends, and the mockingjays in Heaven District 11, Pannol leads me back to the gate.

"It's not often this happens, you know," he says. "Only a select few have been allowed to go back to Earth. And as far as I know, only one has been called back from Hell, and he was only in there for half an hour."

"That's half an hour too much," I say, almost shivering. Judging by the ages of the people of the people coming back with me, those coming from Hell could've been in there for 20-30 years. No wonder I'm going first; they're going to need someone from Heaven to help them. I wonder who the first from Hell is going to be. Probably someone I knew in my earthly life. Snow? I hope not. That's not Christian thinking, but I'm still human.

We arrive at the gate and it opens for us. Pannol turns to me. "Goodbye for now, Rue. I hope you live the life you never had."

"So do I." I laugh suddenly. "I just got something through my head. All of my sisters have grown and their children, my nieces and nephews, are about my age. How many times does that happen naturally?"

We've arrived at the gate and it swings out. "More times than you think," Pannol tells me. "I look forward to seeing you again, Rue. Godspeed."

"Godspeed, Pannol." I hug him before walking out the door. I hear it swing shut behind me and I'm left alone in the white space that forms the outer territories of Heaven. I kneel down to pray. I pray for wisdom, guidance, and strength. I pray to be everything that a Child of God should be. I pray that my testimony will be a light for those down in Panem. I barely notice the sensation of being gently lowered down. It's not until I open my eyes that I realize that my journey down to Earth has already started.

I'm flying through space. Stars and galaxies dance around me as I fly by. I go through the tail of a comet and feel its icy chill for only a moment. I watch as a black hole siphons off energy from an orbiting star. Planets without stars fly through the void with me. An asteroid half the size of the moon collides with a small rocky world, tearing it asunder. Three stars orbit one another in a millennia long dance. Before I know it I'm entering the solar system. I admire Saturn's rings as I pass by. Ganymede zooms over my head as I continue my journey. Phobos and Deimos circle Mars. The dark side of the moon is lit up and I admire the half of it that no one ever sees. I come up on Earth and gaze down on the blue-green globe I called home for 12 years. The North American continent comes up fast and almost before I can process it, I fly down through the atmosphere and into a building on the outskirts of the Capitol. I pass through the ceiling and into a strange humming and vibrating machine, into my old body. It feels like I just jumped into a freezing body of water without getting used to it first.

I draw in my first breath of earthly air in 25 years and open my eyes. My clothes from the arena have been replaced by a hospital gown. My body is strapped down to a table within the machine. The humming is dying down and the table is moving out through a small door at my feet. The scent of sanitizer hits my nose. Already I miss the scent of the fruit trees and the incense at the throne room. The table is out of the machine completely now. I turn my head to see about a dozen people standing at the door, staring at me. I clear my throat hesitantly and say, "Hello."

A moment of absolute silence, then it all breaks loose. Some of them yell in exultation. They shake each other's hands and clap each other on the back. Someone produces a bottle of champagne and starts filling up glasses. They almost forget about me, except for one blond woman. She looks polished, like she's a Capitolite that's forgone the crazy fashions that they usually go with. She walks up to me and begins undoing the restraints, smiling the while time. "Hello, my name is Charis. You're Rue, right?"

"Yes. You're the one in charge. You're Snow's granddaughter."

"Yes, Yes," she says excitedly. "That's right, I…" She pales as she suddenly realizes what I just said. She stares at me, clutching at the last restraint. "What did you say?"

"You're Snow's granddaughter and you're in charge of Project…" I screw up my face as I try to remember. "Elisha."

Almost immediately everyone quiets down and stares at me. The man pouring the champagne doesn't notice as the cup he's pouring overflows.

"Rue," starts Charis slowly. "Just how did you know all that?"

"I was told."

"By who?"

"Jesus Christ. You dragged me out of Heaven," I add wryly.

This time the champagne bottle hits the ground and shatters. The room is sent into an uproar once again.

I sit in my assigned room and study the wall. There are rooms are meant to be temporary homes until we can find places of our own. For the past week it's just been me. They've tried to bring back six people now and they all failed. There are hundreds of pods where they are reconstructing the bodies of those who died in the 2nd Rebellion and in all the Hunger Games back to the 70th. I told them who else would be coming back from Heaven. It's going to take them a couple of weeks for their remains to be restored enough for the "Reviver" to work. Boggs is so close to the age limit that they're not sure if they can bring him back. And Prim's body is far more damaged than the others, so it's going to a few months to finish her.

For the most part my story is met with skepticism. With others, it's downright disbelief. They theorize that it's some kind of dream I came up with as I was being revived to deal with the trauma of dying, that Uncle Remus's stories were taken from my subconscious and used to create my own 'heaven.' I wonder how they'll interpret the story of the first to return from Hell. First someone comes back with stories of Heaven and then the second returns with tales about Hell. They can't ignore stories like that forever. Every time they prepare to bring someone back, I sit in my room and pour my heart out to God, to save some pour soul from the torments of Hell.

The lights flicker, and I know that the machine has been activated. About half an hour later Charis comes into my room and sits down on my bed beside me. She's acting subdued but I see the excitement in her eyes.

"It finally worked again," she tells me.

"And?" I ask.

"She claims she had been in Hell before we revived her." Charis told me she would think about what I told her. Now that a second person has basically confirmed my story, she's probably going to accelerate the repairs on the bodies of Prim, Boggs, Circuit, Christy, and Julius. The sooner that's done, the better.

"Who is it?" I ask. If it's Coin, this'll be harder than anyone else. Well, almost anyone.

The answer sends a shiver up and down my spine.

"Clove Corleone, the female tribute from District 2 for the 74th Hunger Games."